Accepting Average
by JKx12
Summary: The Goblet of Fire told from Ron's point of view. It starts with the scene where Harry is picked to be in the Triwizard Tournament. Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

Ron Weasley was average. Ordinary. What's worse is that he was ordinary, but he was surrounded by the _extra_ordinary. He was always second-best. Second best in his family, and now at school too. All Ron had ever wanted, his dearest desire, was to outshine everyone else, just once. But he shoved this wish to the furthest corner of his mind, tried to ignore it and pretend he enjoyed being normal, blending in. _'Who wants to be stared at, sucked up to and never have any privacy?'_

He saw Harry's life, he saw what he went through, and saw how it unnerved Harry. _'I wouldn't want that kind of attention nonstop,'_he told himself, but what he didn't add was, _'but I also wish I didn't always fade into the background.'_ It was hard being the best mate of Harry Potter. He lost his identity the day he sat next to Harry on the Hogwarts Express, now he was nothing more than the faceless friend of the Boy Who Lived.

He loved Harry, he was glad they were mates, but sometimes he resented being ignored, scoffed at and belittled. And it was frustrating that Harry continued to get thrust into the spotlight. Ron could handle Harry being famous since he was a baby, for somehow vanquishing You-Know-Who but remaining unexceptional after that. It was the fact that Harry continued to find himself in the center of attention at every turn that put an acidic taste in Ron's mouth and a large weight in his gut. Sometimes he thought Harry secretly liked the attention, maybe he did these things for the fame…

All of these thoughts welled up in Ron's mind, taking the forefront and refusing to be ignored when the Goblet of Fire spit out Harry's name. The Triwizard Tournament had arrived at Hogwarts; everyone was about bursting with excitement. Everyone either _was _entering, or desperately _wanted _to enter, Ron included. He had been imagining his name busting out of the Goblet, showing the world that he was just as special as his brothers, just as special as Harry Potter.

He was disappointed when he learned he wouldn't be able to enter, but he enjoyed plotting fun ways to trick Dumbledore's age line. He and Harry had even discussed strategies together, and how they would spend their winnings if either of them won. Because if Ron found a way to cross the age line, he would share the knowledge with Harry. He thought Harry would do the same thing, except he didn't.

When the Halloween Feast rolled around, Ron had excitedly rushed to the Great Hall extra early with Harry and Hermione, wanting to get a good view of the Goblet of Fire. They all ate hurriedly, Ron was constantly straining his neck to see whether Dumbledore was almost finished eating. Impatiently, he waited.

Finally, the announcing began. Naturally Krum was picked as the Durmstrang champion, causing Ron to whoop and pound on the table enthusiastically.

"No surprises there!" he yelled happily to Harry and Hermione. Harry smiled and clapped along excitedly, understanding Krum's superiority and skill. Hermione rolled her eyes, clapping along politely, but as if she couldn't care less about Viktor Krum. Ron could never understand that girl. Sure, she was brilliant, but she had to be lacking something mentally if she didn't understand the beauty of Quidditch.

The buzzing conversations finally quieted down as the goblet turned red once again. A second scrap of parchment danced into the air, chased by the scarlet flames. Dumbledore reached up his arm and the parchment fell neatly into the palm of his hand.

The champion for Beaubatons…Is Fleur Delacour!" he boomed.

"It's her, Ron!" came the shout from Harry. Naturally, it was unnecessary; Ron already had recognized the girl, that angelic and completely beautiful figure that seemed to dance her way over to Dumbledore. Ron couldn't help it, he was desperate to stand up and chase after her, do something impressive to make her just notice him, just for one second. He found himself desperately hoping to be Hogwarts champion; that would make her notice him.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said with a snort, nodding towards the other Beauxbatons students. Ron didn't look, he continued to gaze wonderstruck at the door Fleur had just disappeared behind.

Only the Goblet of Fire could pull Ron's attention away from the most beautiful girl in the world. Hesitantly, he turned to face the once again spurting goblet. This was his moment, his name would be called, he would be champion, and he would make Fleur Delacour want him. When the third piece of parchment launched itself into the air, there was no doubt in Ron's mind that it would bear his name on it. Love sometimes affects your brain in strange ways.

"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore paused for dramatic effect. Ron started to straighten his robes and rake his fingers through his fiery red hair. A champion should look the part after all. "…is Cedric Diggory!"

"No!" Ron shouted angrily, unable to believe that he wasn't champion. Luckily, he didn't think anyone had heard him, the Hufflepuff table's cheers and stamping was too overwhelming. Ron tried to come to grips with his recent loss. Of course he wasn't champion, he was only a fourth year, he found himself remembering.

Ron and Harry turned to face each other, matching looks of disgust on their faces. Pretty Boy Diggory representing Hogwarts? Ron wanted to retch. The urge intensified when he saw the look on Hermione's face. It was curiously similar to the look she used to get when Professor Lockhart would brush his hair in class. Ron never liked that look. It irked him greatly; she shouldn't look that way at any guy. Unless…

"Excellent!" Dumbledore interrupted Ron's dangerous musing, "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

And then it happened. The thing that completely sent Ron overboard. Before that day, he had never regretted his friendship with Harry, he had never not wanted to be friends. But when he heard "Harry Potter," read out by Dumbledore, Ron's hero who probably couldn't pick Ron out from a line-up, he snapped.

Ron turned to stare at Harry, giving him an accusatory glare, trying to make Harry cringe, trying to make Harry realize how completely ridiculous he was. Harry stared back, a blank expression on his face. Maybe he was trying to play innocent, maybe he didn't care enough to try to pretend to look sorry.

"I didn't put my name in, you know I didn't," he said in a monotone voice. He didn't even try to sound convincing. Ron just continued to stare at him, refusing to dignify the blatant lie with a response.

"Harry Potter! Harry! Up here, if you please!" Dumbledore called again. Harry seemed to be ignoring him, instead he continued to sit idly, staring blankly at Hermione.

"Go on," she whispered, shoving him off the bench. Harry nodded and stood up. Ron snorted unkindly when he noticed him trip slightly. Hermione turned to Ron, looking puzzled and concerned. Ron felt his stomach drop once again. Of course she was worried about Harry, not angry that he had lied to them both. She was deliberately blind sometimes, refusing to realize that Harry was just a stupid child, desperate to constantly be the center of attention.

"Ron, what's going to happen?" she whispered worriedly, biting down on her bottom lip. Her eyebrows creased together. Ron wanted to scream. Just another person who couldn't get enough of Harry. Why was she so concerned about him? He had obviously wanted this, had volunteered for it. Ron snorted again maliciously, he wouldn't be surprised if Hermione fancied Harry. The thought made him unbelievably bitter. He turned away from her and sat in brooding silence.

"Okay. Well, students, that is the end of the announcement of the school champions!" Dumbledore cried out jovially, trying to look calm and unconcerned. Ron could tell, just as well as every other student that Dumbledore's brain was currently working through this situation with alarming speed. No doubt in a few minutes, he would have the situation processed and the problem would be solved or dealt with. That was how Dumbledore operated. He seemed to be able to handle anything.

"Off to bed!" he called out abruptly, a distracted look in his eye. The Prefects sprang into action, calling for the students to "make an orderly and quiet exit" out of the Great Hall. Ron stood up in a daze, walking quietly behind Hermione. She continued to blabber away, talking about Harry, how scared he must be, how surprised he was. Ron refused to respond, he knew she wouldn't accept the truth, so there was no point in talking to her.

"Dumbledore can't let him enter!" Hermione burst out frantically when they finally reached the entrance to the common rooms.

"Oh yes he can! In fact he _is_," said a wrinkly and somewhat hostile looking witch who was sitting happily beside the Fat Lady in the portrait entrance. She and the Fat Lady had evidently been gossiping about it excitedly before the students had arrived.

"How do you know?" Seamus asked excitedly, smiling at Dean.

"I was in the room when Dumbledore said so," she said, sitting taller and looking very important. "I heard him say that Harry Potter had to perform in the tasks! Not that he wouldn't want to! He's up to win _one thousand Galleons! _And he won't have to take end-of-year exams! I'm sure he's very happy. The other contestants weren't at all thrilled though," she said with a wink. She opened her mouth to continue talking, until Ron, desperate to not hear anymore, almost shouted –

"Balderdash!" He scrambled through the hole and tried to tune out Violet's muffled yet continuous talking.

They finally reached the Gryffindor common room and Ron tried to make his escape. He was halfway up the staircase to the dorms when Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand. His heart lurched and he felt his legs become leaden. His heart beating strangely fast, and feeling peculiarly warm, he turned around to face her. This reaction took him by surprise, as did the fact that when he turned around he could swear that Hermione was infinitely more beautiful than Fleur Delacour ever could be.

"Talk to Harry when he comes in, he's got to be terrified," she said quietly. Ron stared at her, feeling dejected, but unsure why. He nodded jerkily and walked away from her, still trying to calm his racing heart and figure out what had caused these unwelcome feelings.

X.X

Harry came in about twenty miuntes later. Ron had been lying in bed, fully clothed just staring at the canopy above his head. Until that moment he had not known how he would react to Harry.

It was Harry's insolent "Where've you been?" that settled it. Harry, the cocky bugger that he was, naturally thought that Ron would just be waiting in the common room for him, anxiously nibbling his nails and desperate to hear all about his new plot to be the most famous boy alive.

"Oh hello," Ron replied calmly, slapping a stupid little grin on his face. The rage continued to burn through him, reaching unbelievably levels when he saw that Harry was actually wearing the Gryffindor banner like a cape. Apparently he had been celebrating downstairs and decided being named champion wasn't enough, he needed to have a cape too. Probably a crown next!

"So…Congratulations," he said with a sneer as Harry finally pulled the banner off of his shoulders. He smiled with grim satisfaction when Harry seemed to halt and look worried. Good, Ron wanted Harry to know that he had ruined everything. He had ruined their friendship.

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" he demanded, looking irritated. Ron snorted again. He had been snorting a lot lately.

"Well… no one else got across the Age Line. Not even Fred and George. What did you use- the invisibility cloak?" he tried to speak calmly, but he felt the anger and malice dripping in his tone. He had a permanent grimace on his face that he couldn't seem to remove.

"The invisibilty Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," Harry responded slowly. Ron huffed angrily. _Wonder how you know that for certain. Probably tried and it out. _

"Oh right. I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak… because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?" he said, raising himself to a sitting position. He found his fingers twitching, trying to find his wand. He was somewhat surprised; he had never wanted to curse Harry before. He did now though, he wanted to curse that smug look of superiority off of his face.

"Listen, I didn't put my name in that goblet. Someone else must've done it."

"What would they do that for?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"I dunno," Harry responded. Ron's eyebrows rose skeptically.

"It's okay, you know, you can tell _me _the truth. If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why your bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either…"

"I didn't put my name in that goblet!" Harry shouted, angrily.

"Yeah, okay," Ron replied skeptically. Suddenly he remembered. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you… I'm not stupid you know."

"You're doing a really good impression of it!" Harry barked at him. Ron felt his face flush red in anger, and suddenly his attempts to appear calm ended. He was yelling.

"Yeah? You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something!" He angrily grasped the bed hangings and wrenched them shut around his bed. He laid back down and turned on his side, staring at the velvet curtains and fighting back angry tears.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Ron woke up extra early, and quietly began to slip on his clothes. He glanced over at Harry's bed and noticed that Harry was wearing an expression that meant he was deeply worried. Ron could always read Harry's moods with complete ease, after four years of friendship he had learned what one small sentence or a simple furrowing of his brows meant. It was obvious that Harry had fallen asleep extremely upset.

Far from feeling any regret, or sadness that his friend was hurting, Ron found that he looked upon that sad expression with grim satisfaction. Ron wanted Harry to be unhappy; he wanted Harry's life to not be perfect for a while.

Ron tiptoed out of the dorms, glad that he would be able to avoid another encounter with Harry for at least a little while. Ron knew that Harry was the type to wake up ready for another argument, he would no doubt try to work his way back into Ron's life. The thing was Ron was pretty sure he didn't want to have Harry in his life anymore. He was exhausted of the antics Harry went through to get attention. It was now obvious to Ron that Harry couldn't stand to simply blend in, he had to have people watching him, talking about him, and sucking up to him. Sure, he would complain about it, he always went on and on about how he wanted to 'just be normal,' but his actions completely went against everything he said. He didn't just want to be 'The Boy Who Lived," he wanted to be 'The Boy Who Lives." He wanted to keep the fame that had been thrust upon him as a baby. And while Ron was friends with Harry, Ron would always be ignored and overlooked.

Ron entered the Great Hall to find Hermione already sitting at the Gryffindor table. Ron's heart gave another feeble lurch, and Ron once again wondered why she was affecting him this way. When he sat down next to her, he was hyper aware that their hands were almost touching.

"Good morning, Ronald," Hermione greeted him curtly. Ron knew this tone, and he knew that when Hermione called him 'Ronald' it never meant anything good.

"Morning Hermione," he replied casually, pulling a large golden platter of scrambled eggs closer to him. He felt her eyes on him, but he tried to ignore her and continued to shovel food onto his plate. He had added sausages, toast, and porridge before Hermione exasperatedly said -

"Well?"

"Well what?" Ron asked, already feeling defensive. He leaned back and glared at her. Her tempers were dangerous.

"Well what happened? Did you talk to him? Because I told you to talk to him," she puffed unhappily.

"'Elax 'Ermione, I tucked to 'im," Ron said through a mouthful of eggs. She was rolling her eyes at him again. Ron swallowed and immediately choked and had a hacking cough. Hermione continued to stare him down steadily, waiting for him to provide more details.

"Yea, thanks for the help there, almost died and all," Ron said irritably after he regained his breath.

"Ronald…" Hermione replied, threateningly.

"Calm down, woman. Yeah, I talked to him; we got into a fight if you must know. I'm tired of dealing with his dramatics. He entered his name in just to get some more attention."

"Oh Ron, you know Harry didn't put his name in! You saw his face, he looked completely surprised!" Hermione waved away his words, refusing to acknowledge them.

"I don't know that. Harry told me he was going to enter, Hermione. He said if he could find a way how to he'd sneak down and do it at night so no one would be watching. That's what he did! He just likes being famous," Ron replied bitterly.

"You know that's not true. Harry wouldn't do that! I think you're just being petty and jealous!"

Ron snapped his head around and glared at her. "Jealous?" he said quietly, "I'm just jealous?"

Hermione seemed to rethink things, and quietly said, "Ron, I know Harry tends to get shoved into the spotlight, and I know it's hard being his best mate and being ignored, but he doesn't mean for it to happen! He can't help it!"

"Harry doesn't get _shoved _into the spotlight, he leaps headfirst into it. I'm just tired of it, Hermione," he said simply, frowning slightly and refusing to meet her eyes. Ron knew Hermione had a point, he knew he was sometimes jealous of all the attention Harry got, and he knew this was part of the reason he was so angry at Harry. Ron was just tired of being overlooked, and he was tired of Harry treating Ron like a loyal sidekick that he allowed tag along behind him.

"Let it go, Hermione. I don't want to talk about it anymore," Ron interrupted when he saw Hermione open her mouth to say something. She looked at him with something that looked like pity.

"Okay, Ronald," she grabbed multiple slices of toast and wrapped them up in a napkin. As she stood up, she placed her hand on Ron's head for a moment and looked down at him sadly. She left him and walked out of the Great Hall, probably to go find Harry since she had had no success with Ron. Sighing, Ron turned to his breakfast. He stared at it angrily for a few moments before deciding he was not hungry anymore. Frustrated, he shoved his plate away and stood up, desperate to do something to distract himself.

X.X

A little while later, Ron found himself pacing back and forth by the lake. He had angrily marched out of Hogwarts, desperate to find somewhere peaceful and calm. Unfortunately, in his haste Ron hadn't grabbed a jumper or a jacket, and the crisp autumn cold only reinforced his annoyance.

He continued to pace on the bank of the lake, occasionally kicking pebbles angrily into the black water. He had just flopped down on the dewy grass with his head resting on the rough trunk of a tree when he heard his name.

"Have you seen Ron?" he immediately recognized Harry's voice. Ron sat up and saw Harry and Hermione walking right towards him. The only reason they hadn't seen him yet was because they were both watching the lake, throwing chunks of toast to the squid that was lazing in the shallow water. Ron quickly popped up and darted behind the shed that stored canoes on the water's edge, their muffled conversation chasing him. He sat down, his head resting on the splintering wood.

"Well… no, I don't think so… not _really_," Hermione was saying.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'not _really_'?" Harry demanded. The two of them continued to walk closer to the small shed. Ron inched silently further away to remain out of sight.

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious? He's jealous!" Hermione blurted out. Ron felt his cheeks grow red. Great, now he looked pathetic, and Harry was off the hook for acting stuck up and arrogant. Ron scowled, mentally reminding himself to yell at Hermione later.

"_Jealous?_ Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?" Harry scoffed. Ron squirmed uncomfortably. He deeply regretted coming outside, he didn't want to hear Harry's arguments. Ron wanted to stay angry.

"Look, it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault. I know you don't ask for it…but, well, you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous – he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many…" Hermione trailed off. Ron looked at his feet. It sounded pathetic when he heard it from her.

"Great, really great. Tell him from me I'll sway any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it… People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go…" he rattled off bitterly, kicking the side of the shed as he passed by. Ron jumped, but they continued to walk past.. Ron reached down and pulled out a handful of grass. It was just like Harry. Hermione had just explained to him how Ron had felt, and Harry was playing the victim. Ron wasn't mad because he was jealous, he was mad because Harry was self-centered, and never cared what Ron thought or felt.

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione snapped, and Ron could tell she was getting irritated with Harry too. It made Ron smile. "Tell him yourself, it's the only way to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up! Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or-" Ron shook his head, chucking the blades of grass.

"That's not funny, that's not funny at all. Harry I've been thinking - you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the-"

"_Write to Sirius. _You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts…Its almost as if he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out with me…" Hermione said, quietly, in case anyone else was around. It would be suspicious if someone heard them talking about writing to a convicted murderer. Their voices started to get more muffled as they continued to walk further away.

Ron heard Harry's fading voice finally exasperatingly snap, "Okay, okay, I'll write to him," and their voices faded completely. Ron waited a few minutes, then stood up, brushed off his robes and quietly entered the castle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey I hope you guys have liked it so far! I'm trying to keep the updates coming every three days or so. Should I continue after this and do the fifth six and seventh book in Ron's point of view? Let me know, and let me know how you like the story so far. Thanks!**

The next day, Ron awoke especially early once again, still determined to avoid alone time with Harry as much as possible. Since their fight, Ron had been waking up at ungodly hours of the morning and was usually the last person to come into the dorm room at night to sleep. Ron had complained about this to Hermione, but she didn't seem at all sympathetic.

During their first period, Herbology, Ron and Harry both sat on opposite sides of Hermione, pretending as if the other wasn't there. Occasionally Hermione would attempt to strike up a conversation, but neither of the boys cooperated, and she eventually fell into a slightly annoyed silence. Ron found himself gratified that the rest of the school seemed equally as frustrated with Harry as he was. Naturally, the Slytherin students didn't have to change their attitude towards him at all, their inherent nastiness and cruelty perfectly fit the situation. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, however, had quickly grown to hate the Boy Who Lived overnight. Even Professor Sprout laughed unkindly when a Bouncing Bulb lurched and hit Harry square in the jaw, leaving an angry red welt.

Occasionally, Ron found himself slightly angry with the school, thinking they were taking the punishment too far. Once or twice, he had to bite his tongue to keep from speaking up and telling people to lay off. He fought off the impulse however, and stood in silence, watching the abuse.

After multiple days, the hatred was still going strong. Students from the other houses continued to glare at Harry as he passed in the hallway, and would loudly announce their support for "The _Real_ Hogwarts Champion". Even fellow Gryffindors began to treat him icily, after the initial excitement of one of their housemates being a champion wore off, hushed conversations sprang up discussing how Harry was constantly trying to get attention. Harry grew quieter and quieter, only talking to Hermione in hushed murmurs.

After a few days had passed, Ron found that most of his bitterness towards Harry had faded, and he had begun to miss his friend. Not enough to say he was sorry or ask to be friends again, but just enough to sometimes glance over at him during class and turn away a few moments later feeling rather puzzled. Ron decided that he didn't miss _Harry_, he just missed having a best friend. Ron had been forced to replace Harry with Hermione, and occasionally, when he was desperate, Fred and George. To say they graciously accepted their brother's company was a bit of a stretch, but they allowed him to sit with them and walk around with them between classes.

The worst part about hanging out with Fred and George was the nickname. Ron suspected they used it because they knew he hated it so much. Hermione had her suspicions that they were trying to annoy him enough that he would get so fed up that he'd talk to Harry just so he could be shot of them. Ron had to admit that it might have been a combination of both. Regardless, whenever he was around his brothers, he was always addressed as Ickle Ronniekins. He did not enjoy it.

X.X

A week after Harry's name had been drawn out of the Goblet of Fire, Ron silently stood up from the Gryffindor table where he had been sitting with Fred and George and began his quiet descent to the dungeons for a particularly nasty session of Double Potions with Snape. Ron walked slowly, and found that by the time he had reached the dank corridor outside of Snape's room the rest of the class had already assembled. He quickly saw Harry and Hermione standing together seemingly facing off against Malfoy. Ron stood on the edge of the group and watched quietly, more concerned for Hermione than Harry.

Ron had been quite frustrated to find that he had somewhat lost Hermione's company through his falling out with Harry. Despite the fact that she was supposed to still be friends with Ron too, Hermione was almost entirely with Harry. Ron knew she did it because Harry was feeling everybody's hate and probably needed her more than Ron did, but still. Ron missed her greatly, though he refused to admit it.

Currently Hermione looked livid, her cheeks started to turn a rosy red hue, and her hair seemed more out of control than usual. "Oh _very _funny. Really _witty_," she almost hissed. Hermione was glaring darkly at Pansy Parkinson. Finally Ron realized what she was so furious about as Pansy pulled out multiple green badges and began tossing them out to the mass of students. One fell to Ron's feet. Bending down to pick it up he read:

Support CEDRIC DIGGORY

The REAL Hogwarts Champion

As soon as his hand touched the metallic badge wiped itself clean, and turned a violent shade of green. New words began to scratch themselves across its surface:

POTTER STINKS

Ron tossed the badge away. He noticed Harry's eyes on him and he almost gave an encouraging smile. Almost. Instead he stood there passively, allowing Malfoy to continue his diatribe uninterrupted.

"Want one, Granger?" the deathly pale boy jeered, holding up the badge and shoving it in Hermione's face. She stared back at him, unblinking. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; I don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Malfoy turned and looked back at his posse of smug faced Slytherins, all laughing appreciatively at their ringleader's joke. Ron felt anger course red through his veins and gathering to burn in his heart. He pulled out his wand and tried to step towards Hermione, to protect her and to curse Malfoy into oblivion for insulting her. He took a few steps forward before Neville reached out and grabbed the back of his robes.

"Leggo Neville," Ron growled, keeping his eyes on Malfoy.

"Don't do it, you'll just get into trouble. Hermione is used to it, he does this all the time," Neville reasoned, sounding worried. His eyes darted back and forth, keeping a lookout for Snape. Ron nodded, but continued to inch forward, just in case.

"Harry!" Hermione barked. Harry had seemed to have the same idea as Ron, his wand was out and he was stepping dangerously towards Malfoy.

"Go on, then, Potter. Moody's not here to look after you now- do it, if you've got the guts…" Malfoy cajoled, pulling his own wand out from his sleeve. Crab and Goyle both moved stupidly, standing on either side of Malfoy with confused expressions on their faces. Neither of them had their wands drawn, they simply stood there, switching from staring threateningly at Harry to looking confusedly at Draco, as if asking for instructions.

For a moment the scene was frozen. Harry and Draco stood opposite each other, wands bared and looking murderous. Then they both raised their wands in unison.

"Furnunculus!"

"Densaugeo!"

The two beams shot towards each other and collided in midair, causing them to ricochet off. A golden jet hit Goyle square in the face while an emerald beam hit Hermione. Ron rushed towards Hermione, watching with horror as she dropped to her knee and clutched her mouth. Nervously, Ron tried to drag Hermione's hand away despite her protesting. Her two front teeth were growing alarmingly, shooting down past her hand and progressing towards her chin. Hermione looked up at Ron with watery brown eyes and let out a soft whimper.

"What's all this noise about? Explain." Ron heard a velvety voice above him. He ignored it, and continued to kneel next to Hermione, throwing his arm around her.

"Potter attacked me, sir-" Malfoy lied slickly, automatically putting on his innocent face.

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry interjected angrily.

Malfoy ignored the interruption and continued, "-and he got Goyle-look-"

Ron shot up angrily, dragging Hermione to her feet as well. "Malfoy got Hermione! _Look!" _he said desperately, pulling Hermione's hand away from her mouth once again. Ron heard the Slytherin girls snickering meanly and he shot them murderous glares.

"I see no difference," Snape replied coldly, sneering at Hermione as she let out a whimper. Finally the tears spilled over and she ripped her hand out of Ron's grasp and raced down the hall and up the staircase.

Ron turned to face Snape, and immediately began hurling every insult he could think of. Ron doubted Snape was able to make out the specific names he was called, however, since Harry happened to also be shouting angrily along with him. Their angry shouts echoed and covered each other out. Nevertheless, Snape understood their general meaning, and smiled evilly at them both.

"Let's see… Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions," he threatened in his dark silky voice.

Harry and Ron both stomped pass Snape, both fuming angrily while shoving tables and chairs out of their paths. For a moment, Ron almost sat down next to Harry to violently abuse Snape, but then he saw Harry's hopeful glance his way. He instead turned his back and joined Dean and Seamus.

Ron refused to pay attention during class. He instead sat there in silent fury went back and forth between plotting ways to kill Snape without getting caught and worrying about Hermione. Even when Snape threatened to test someone's antidote by poisoning them, he remained unfazed, imagining Hermione weeping in the girl's bathroom, her teeth scraping the floor.

A knock on the door burst through Ron's preoccupied thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Colin Creevey, Harry's obsessed stalker, was standing anxiously in the doorway.

"Yes?" Snape demanded.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs." Ron almost laughed. There was no way Professor Snape would allow anyone to leave class early, _especially_ not Harry.

"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete. He will come upstairs when this class is finished," he replied coldly, staring down his hooked nose at the poor quaking boy. All the blood seemed to drain from Colin's face.

"Sir- sir, Mr. Bagman want him. All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs…" Ron rolled his eyes. Naturally people wanted pictures of the wonder boy Champion. Ron swore he saw a ghost of a smile flash across Harry's lips. Ron flushed in annoyance and stared at the ceiling, trying to control his temper. _I don't care anymore! Let him do whatever he wants, take all the photos he wants. I don't care anymore…_ he tried to convince himself. Harry seemed to be trying to make eye contact, but Ron continued to stare at the ceiling determinedly.

Naturally Snape allowed Harry to leave, after all Harry's press coverage and adoring fans could not be delayed. When the rest of the class flashed their _POTTER STINKS _badges at him as he walked out the door, Ron was almost tempted to join in.

"Get back to work!" Snape barked angrily, his temper at dangerous levels now that he had to let Harry escape. "Like I said, I will be selecting a student to test their antidote…" Snape's eyes settled on Ron's, and he felt dread seep into him. Ron _hated _Harry.

X.X

Later that night, Ron sat silently in the scarlet arm chairs facing the fire, massaging his queasy stomach. True to his word, Snape had tested Ron's antidote by summoning a poison from his office and forcing Ron to down a swallow full. Immediately Ron had felt an intense desire to vomit violently, to get the torturous venom out of his system. Instead he was forced to swallow his own "antidote" which only seemed to make the poison's effects worse.

Unsurprised that Ron's antidote had failed to work, Snape spent the next few moments going through the instructions step by step and pointing out each of the various ways Ron had failed. Only after he had finished criticizing Ron's every step did he finally summon another small vial from his office and allow Ron to take the correct antidote.

By the end of class, Ron was dry heaving in the back of the room, sweat dripping off his nose as he pressed his forehead against the cool stone walls. As class ended and the students were dismissed, Snape's footsteps approached. Ron turned his head miserably and looked up at his loathed Professor.

"Do not be so dramatic, Weasley, the poison's effects are minimal and the antidote has stopped the spreading. You and Potter will both serve your detentions tomorrow night. Now get out of my sight," he said bitterly, dragging Ron up off of the floor.

Ron swayed on his feet and stumbled into Snape, knocking him backwards a bit. Snarling and looking disgusted, Snape grabbed ahold of Ron's robes and dragged him towards the door.

"Get out," he said maliciously, slightly shoving him. After a moment's pause, he quietly, seemingly unwillingly added, "drink pumpkin juice, it helps neutralize the poison," and slammed the door. Ron had stumbled his way to the Great Hall for dinner, drank three goblets full of pumpkin juice, and feeling marginally better, walked to the Gryffindor common room and collapsed into the armchair he was still seated in.

After about half an hour of staring dazedly at the cracking flames, Ron stood up weakly and made his way up to his dorm, exhausted and ready to sleep.

A loud tapping greeted him as he walked through the door. A tawny school barn owl was seated on the window sill and seemed very irked to be left out in the cold so long. Ron quietly crossed the room and cracked open the window, allowing the owl to hop in. It hooted gratefully and held out it's leg.

"Harry Potter," Ron read on the front of the letter, "Sorry, that's not me. He'll here in a while I suppose," he said. The owl hooted in response and Ron dropped him off on Harry's pillow.

He laid down in bed for what seemed like ten seconds before the door was banged open and Harry stomped in. Ron stood up, automatically feeling frustrated.

"You've had an owl," he said in a clipped voice, jerking his head towards Harry's pillow.

"Oh- right."

"And we've got to do our detentions tomorrow night, Snape's dungeon," he finished in the same brusque tone of voice. Ron then stepped past Harry and walked out the door, closing it shut behind him. As he returned to the armchair he had vacated just a few minutes earlier, he growled in frustration.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning came entirely too quickly for Ron. He finally staggered back up to the dorm room at one in the morning, certain that Harry would be asleep. He wasn't sure if he was correct and Harry was sleeping or not, the moment he walked in the door, he collapsed onto his bed and was knocked out within seconds.

Unfortunately, the next morning Dean and Seamus were entirely too excited for the weekend, and bounced around the dorm room slamming into Ron's bed and letting out excited whoops. Feeling very grumpy and upset that he hadn't gotten to sleep in, Ron sat up drowsily. He suddenly remembered and shot a look at Harry's bed. Empty. Ron breathed a sigh of relief, before a thought struck him. Maybe he wasn't the only one avoiding someone. The idea that Harry was trying to avoid him irked him greatly. What did he have to be angry about after all?

Scowling, Ron flipped his feet off the bed and contemplated going to breakfast. No doubt Harry and Hermione would be sitting together and Ron would be stuck sitting with Fred and George. He frowned at the thought. The twins seemed more annoyed at having him around than usual. More than once Ron would walk up to find the two with their heads together, whispering intently. As soon as they noticed Ron they would lapse into silence, and if he questioned them they immediately insulted him and would walk off. He didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't like Fred or George to be taking anything so seriously. He figured they must just be getting frustrated at playing babysitter to Ron.

Eventually Ron's stomach settled his internal debate for him. Ron was very used to three square meals a day and multiple snacks in-between, and his stomach did not appreciate being denied. After a particularly nasty rumble of his stomach, Ron pulled on his robes and stepped out of the dorm room.

On the way down to breakfast, Ron passed _her, _Fleur DeLacour. His brain went fuzzy as it generally did while he was around her, and he quickly sped up, worried that he'd do something stupid and embarrassing if he were around her any longer. He gave her one last glance before turning the corner and noticed she was strutting towards a rather handsome and broad chested Ravenclaw boy. Ron huffed angrily.

Still dazed, Ron approached the Gryffindor table silently. Once again Fred and George were deep in hushed conversation, so immersed that they hadn't yet noticed Ron approaching.

"It's our money, George, he owes it to us," Fred murmured quietly, leaning in.

"He probably made a mistake, he'll pay up."

"Well we have to write again, at least. He didn't seem to- oi, what are you doing just standing there?" Fred demanded, shooting a nervous glance at George.

"Just coming to breakfast, who are you talking about? Who owes you money?" Ron questioned.

"None of your business, little brother," George replied, looking uncaring and relaxed.

"Yea it is. Who's not paying up?"

"Mum. She said we'd get wages for all this babysitting we seem to be doing with you hanging around constantly," Fred replied sarcastically.

"Yea and our fee is increasing the more annoying you get, so shut up or leave. Soon you won't be able to afford us," George added, throwing a sausage in his mouth.

"Fred-" Ron started.

"It's nothing, Ickle Ronniekins, don't you worry your little head about it. Just grownup business," George said in a baby voice, ruffling Ron's fiery hair.

"Let us convene our business elsewhere, George, since itty bitty Ronnie doesn't seem to want to leave," Fred said in a gruff, formal voice, straightening his tie importantly.

"Adieu, baby brother."

"If you eat too quickly and need to be burped-"

"Ignore the urge and just choke to death," They chimed, walking off, leaving Ron staring after them stupidly.

X.X

Ron spent the rest of his Saturday aimlessly wandering the castle, feeling lonely and unhappy. Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of Harry and Hermione sitting together or walking together, but he would quickly turn and leave before they saw him.

Ron was growing progressively more unhappy as the days dragged on. He had never really realized how much of his life circled around his time with Harry. Now that they weren't talking, Ron was almost always alone or tagging along behind people that didn't really want his company. Fred and George put up with him because they had to, Dean and Seamus let him sit with them in class but didn't include him any other time and Hermione had deserted him almost completely.

Why did he only have two real friends? When he didn't have Harry or Hermione he didn't have anyone. And how he looked like the pathetic one since Hermione chose Harry over him. Ron supposed he should have seen it coming; Hermione had always seemed closer with Harry than she had with Ron, despite the fact that Ron obviously cared about her more than Harry. But like always, she cared more about perfect Harry than invisible Ron. Harry was taller, better looking, rich. Even Ron's mother cared more about Harry than her own son. In her letters she was constantly asking _'How is Harry handling everything?', 'I do hope Harry is doing alright. Make sure he is eating right, that poor boy is so thin…' _She never worried about Ron…

The only times Ron ever even got to see Hermione lately was whenever she came and tried to convince him to make up with Harry. Every other day or so she would march up to him and argue with him for about half an hour, trying to convince him that he missed Harry, that Harry missed him, and that Ron should apologize to Harry for god knows what. Naturally, Ron always refused and argued back with her. Ron never shirked away from an argument with Hermione. It was good for her to be argued with occasionally. She was so brilliant that if Ron wasn't around to help deflate her every now and then, her ego might go crazy. Ron took care of Hermione, he always was thinking about her. She never thought or cared about him.

Ron eventually went to dinner feeling absolutely miserable. He sat next to Seamus and Dean, but sat in complete silence, not wanting to force his way into their conversations. He ate quickly and quietly and then fled the Great Hall, his misery and loneliness almost overwhelming. His bad mood only increased as a mob of Slytherins greeted him outside.

"Hey Weasley, check this out!" A Slytherin girl chucked the Daily Prophet at him, a wicked grin on her face. Looking at the cover Ron saw a smug faced Harry grinning up at him.

_An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter, whose eyes are strikingly similar to his deceased mother, Lilly Potter nee Evans._

Ron read the whole article, growing progressively more disgusted. It began with Rita Skeeter complimenting everything about Harry, starting with his modesty and moving on to his _"_charming sense of humour." Ron scoffed openly at Harry's increasingly ridiculous quotes. "_I definitely find inspiration from my parents, but also from my fans. They are sort of like the family I never got to have. Thinking of all those people out there who are rooting for me makes me want to be strong and do well for them. If I win, it will be for them_."

"Pathetic isn't it?" The slytherin girl sneered. Ron glared at her, but he couldn't help but agree. Harry gave an interview bragging about himself and thanking his "adoring fan base," and he had the nerve to pretend that he hadn't entered himself! The passage that truly infuriated Ron, however, was the last few sentences on a page, coupled with an intimate picture of Harry and Hermione wrapped up in each other's arms.

_Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school._

Burning with a strange bitter feeling, Ron crumpled up the paper and threw it away from him, stalking off to the dungeons where he was to serve his detention with Snape. He fumed the entire way through the corridors, mumbling darkly under his breath. The picture of the two of them together remained seared at the forefront of his mind. He saw Hermione's smiling and apparently love struck face. Ron wanted to vomit. So Harry and Hermione were together, that's why Hermione never had any time for Ron. She and Harry were _dating_.

Ron had long been trying to ignore the feelings that he seemed to have developed for Hermione. He didn't know why they had started or what exactly they meant, he just knew that when Hermione was around him his heart seemed to beat much faster, and a strange sensation seemed to take root in the pit of his stomach. Imagining her with Harry made him feel like his chest was being stretched apart.

When Ron entered the dungeon and saw Harry, he was so frustrated that he refused to say one word to him. The entire two hours of torture they spend pickling rat brains, Ron said not a word. Occasionally he sent him angry glares, but even when Harry tried to make conversation, Ron responded with stony silence.

Snape eventually came in to sneer at them and berate their 'stupidity,' 'sense of entitlement,' and 'complete arrogance lack of respect.' Ron accepted his abuse silently, knowing it was more directed at Harry than at him. Harry however seemed to be shaking in fury. Ron smirked and had never felt so understanding towards Snape in his life. Maybe Snape was like Ron, some arrogant idiot came and stole the girl of his dreams right out from under him like Harry had stolen Hermione. Maybe Snape was still tortured by what could have been. Ron would understand, he would be bitter towards everyone just like Snape was…

Snape eventually dismissed them, and Harry and Ron walked back towards the Gryffindor common room together. Ron was still seething, picturing Harry and Hermione hugging, kissing, holding hands. Ron finally accepted what he knew had been coming for a long time, he liked Hermione. She should be with him, not Harry. Ron couldn't even look at Harry without feeling stabbed in the back.

"Banana Fritters," Ron barked at the Fat Lady. She frowned at him but slowly swung open, allowing him to enter.

"Ron," Harry almost whispered from behind. He stepped in through the entrance hole and stood their awkwardly, his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulder's hunched. Ron raised his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

"Ron, you know I didn't, you know I'm not- That interview…" he mumbled disjointedly. He paused and gazed at Ron, peering at him and seemingly begging him to hear him out.

"Harry! There you are!" Hermione walked up, completely ignoring Ron.

"Ahem," Ron scowled at her."

"Oh, Ron! I didn't see you! Did you two talk then?" She asked, sounding hopeful.

"Actually Hermione, we were just about to-" Harry began, giving Ron a meaningful look.

"I'm actually going to bed. No, Harry, I'm tired. Go hang out with your _girlfriend,_" he spat out angrily. Harry gave him a quizzical look and seemed about to reply when Ron turned on his heels and quickly walked away. Behind him he heard Hermione, the girl he was beginning to realize he might just be in love with, comfort Harry. As he walked up the stairs to the dormitories he glanced back momentarily and saw Hermione pull Harry into her arms.


	5. Chapter 5

The days before the first task of the Triwizard tournament dragged by. Ron found himself greatly looking forward to the task, if only because it got him out of classes for a day. He had been thinking a lot about Harry and found himself worrying about his old friend's safety. Hermione had seemed to be making more of an effort to spend time with Ron, and she enjoyed using the time to talk all about past tournaments and the dangers of the tasks. Ron had known that previous contestants had died before, but he had always assumed that they had just done something stupid to make it happen. Hermione showed him just how wrong he was.

_"They test them Ronald. They set up challenges that you would never have to face in an ordinary situation, and they send you in completely unaware and unprepared. In the last tournament the champions were set into an arena and trailed by pogrebins – demons that project despair onto humans but hide themselves by crouching and pretending to be large boulders. The champions had no idea what was happening and they were in complete despair. Finally, one champion curled up in a ball and started weeping and the pogrebin attacked and devoured him. The other champions finally figured out what happened and they stunned them all, but the boy had already died."_

Ron was beginning to wonder how any of the old champions came out alive. He tried to trust that the tournament was safer this year, after all Dumbledore would never allow a student to die… But Ron was still terrified, and he had never been so tempted to believe that Harry had been entered against his will. After all, what kind of fool would want to be devoured by Russian demon rock things?

As the tournament slowly crept closer, Ron watched Harry grow more and more secluded and anxious. He rarely looked at Ron anymore, seeming to accept that their friendship was over. Even Hermione had ceased to argue with the two of them about making up.

The last time Harry and Ron had spoken was the Saturday before the first task. All day Ron had been searching for Hermione, desperate to beg for her help on their Potions essay, but he could not find her. When he finally found her, she was whispering with Harry in the common room. The two of them had still not admitted to anyone but they were dating, but neither of them denied it when Ron had mentioned it after their detentions, so he accepted it as fact. Plus, they still acted like a couple. When he saw the two of them, obviously having a _special moment, _he marched up to the dorm room and decided he didn't need her help.

It turned out that he did. Without Hermione's advice and guidance, the essay ended up taking way longer than usual. It was pushing past one in the morning and Ron was still scratching away nonsense sentences that he knew would not get him a good grade.

It was at one fifteen that Ron realized Harry had still not come up to bed. Trying to convince himself not to worry, Ron refocused on his essay, bending his head over his parchment and scratching away anxiously, ink flicking all over his pajamas. By one thirty, Ron was worried. What if the tournament task was to attack the contestants when they were least expecting it? What if Hermione was right and someone was really trying to hurt Harry?

Ron slipped out of bed and quietly padded down the stairs. As he neared the common room, he heard eerie whispers; someone with a very gruff, gravelly voice was speaking. Someone that was not a student. Ron hurried down, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Hermione had been right, Karkaroff or someone else was in the common room, they had probably attacked Harry!

Ron reached the bottom of the steps and halted, staring at Harry – all alone.

"Who were you talking to?" Ron asked, genuinely curious and worried. He had been sure that he had heard someone else. Someone with a voice much deeper than Harry's had been in the common room.

"What's that got to do with you?" Harry responded with surprising bitterness. Ron was rather taken aback. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I just wondered where you—Nothing. I'm going back to bed," Ron said with a shrug, not wanting to admit he had been worried about Harry.

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted at Ron, standing and taking a few steps closer. Ron took a step back and felt his face growing red.

"Sorry about that," Ron said with a sneer, responding in anger, "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace." Ron smiled as he watched his words hit the mark. Suddenly, Harry was furious, angrier than Ron had ever seen him before. Harry grabbed a green _POTTER STINKS _badge off of a nearby table and angrily whipped it across the room. The badge struck Ron directly on the forehead.

Ron stared at Harry in complete shock. "There you go. Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky…That's what you want, isn't it?" He stomped across the room, almost bumping into Ron as he passed, and stormed up the stairs.

Ron stood stuck in place for quite a while, holding the emerald green badge in his hands. He eventually sank down onto the couch and stared into the flames, thinking about Harry, Hermione, and whether the three of them could ever just go back to normal.

X.X

Finally, Tuesday arrived. The first task for the Triwizard tournament was set for the afternoon and the whole school was desperate to get through the morning classes. Each class dragged by. History of Magic was even more boring than usual, and most kids had given up even trying to listen and were instead having quite loud conversations about what the task would entail or what champion would win. Professor Binns ignored the lack of attention and continued to drone on about giant wars in the fifteenth century while only Hermione listened.

During classes, Harry sat with a vacant expression. Occasionally he would snap out of his daze, frantically whip out his wand and perform a summoning charm, zooming small objects like a quill or paper towards his outstretched hand. Ron watched him, puzzled, not understanding why mastering the spell was so important all of the sudden.

By lunch time, Harry was still walking around like a living dead. He shakily approached the Gryffindor table and plopped down. Student's shifted to give him extra room, but he didn't notice. He stared blankly at a large golden bowl of pickled eggs in apparent disgust.

After a few minutes, Professor McGonagall rushed up to the table.

"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now… You have to get ready for your first task," she said, anxiously gazing down at Harry. Harry looked up at her, a vacant expression on his face.

"Okay," he said, emptily. He stood up and nodded as McGonagall placed her hand on his shoulder, apparently trying to be soothing. It was strange to see someone as cool and severe as Professor McGonagall look so shaken and worried, she had an almost motherly look on her face.

Ron watched quietly as Harry padded along beside McGonagall and finally exiting the hall. Hermione quietly approached Ron. "Let's go to the stadium, everyone will be trying to get good seats."

The two of them walked across the grounds in complete silence, jostled and bumped by the swarms of students running to the magically constructed stadium. About a hundred meters away from the entrance to the stadium was a large purple tent where Ron suspected the champions were being held.

As Ron and Hermione finally managed to fight their way to their seats, a loud, blood curdling roar rang through the air. For a moment there was complete silence as everyone searched for the source of it. Coming through the entrance to the stadium, being coaxed and pulled through by about ten handlers was a blueish- gray and hideously terrifying _dragon. _The dragon shook its head angrily and let loose a blinding ball of flames. Looking closely, Ron recognized his own brother, Charlie, rushing forward to pull down on a chain attached to the dragon's passive leg.

"Dragons? They've got to be joking!" Ron choked out. Next to him, Hermione silently stared at the dragon, not looking at all surprised. "You knew?"

"Yeah, Harry found out. The other champions know too, we think…" Ron rolled his eyes and gave a small smile. Naturally Harry found out, he was not the type to just wait patiently to for whatever was going to happen. Hermione was not sharing in Ron's amusement; instead she was rocking back and forth and gnawing on her fingers.

"Hermione, I know he's your boyfriend and all, but relax! Dumbledore won't let him be killed!" Ron called back at her over the loud roars of the crowd. Hermione looked up at Ron.

"Harry's not my boyfriend, Ron. Did you really believe that article? It was completely untrue." Ron stared back at her, wanting to ask more, to point out how they had been acting, to ask her if she liked Harry even if they weren't dating. Unfortunately, the handlers were backing away from the blue dragon and Dumbledore was explaining the task. Ron turned away from Hermione, a large grin spreading across his face.

Suddenly Cedric appeared in the entrance to the stadium and the Hufflepuffs roared in approval. Bagman began his enthusiastic play by play of Cedric's quest for his target, a small golden egg that was placed in a nest with the dragon's own eggs. Cedric was standing on the edge of the vast enclosure, shielding himself from the irate dragon with a large boulder. He had pulled out his wand and was currently doing some apparently complicated spell work on a nearby rock.

Suddenly the dragon leapt into the air and flew at Cedric in a fury, unleashing a wave of fire. Cedric ran away in a panic, desperately trying to get away from the dragon. Finally, the dragon seemed to halt in midair, unable to get any nearer to her target. Ron looked closely and noticed a thick metallic chain wrapped around the dragon, keeping her tethered on a leash.

Obvious relief washed over Cedric's face. However, he seemed to forget that he still wasn't safe as the dragon let loose another roar of blazing fire. Cedric quickly dropped down, finding coverage in the craggy rocks.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow!" Bagman cried excitedly, bouncing around in his announcer's box. Dumbledore was watching very composedly, his hands together, as if he were praying, with his chin resting on his thumbs. He peered from over his fingertips, watching Cedric intently. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime were not half as composed; they were leaning forward and shouting, apparently enjoying Cedric's struggles.

Cedric was working quickly once again, waving his wand over a rock and trying to keep steady focus in order to complete his spell. The dragon continued to roar angrily and try to flap closer to him, but the chain kept her stationary. Finally, Cedric stood up, happily, a transfigured golden lab pouncing around at his feet.

The lab bounded off, racing around the fiery tipped rocks. The dragon seemed to sway back and forth between Cedric and the dog, not sure which one to pursue. Cedric stood absolutely still, and she eventually seemed to decide to go after the more exciting target. She launched to the ground and rushed at the dog, fire bellowing from her jaws.

"He's taking risks, this one!" Bagman shouted happily as Cedric ran at a dead sprint towards the nest of eggs. He almost reached the nest when the dragon shifted its attention away from the dog and turned its black eyes towards Cedric. As she saw the threat reaching her eggs, she shook into a massive fury, leasing jets of flame and charging to protect her eggs. Cedric just had his hands on the golden egg when a jet of fire collided into his side. He was momentarily knocked onto his back, his hands clutching his burnt clothes and flesh, the golden egg lying abandoned a few feet away.

"_Clever _move – pity it didn't work!" Bagman roared as the crowd groaned.

The dragon continued to approach, still furious at this mysterious attack on her young. The crowd was going crazy, terrified that Cedric was about to be mauled. The handlers were rushing forward, prepared to intervene if necessary. At the last moment, Cedric seemed to snap into his senses. He scooped up the egg and made a mad zigzagged dash away from the dragon. When he finally made it to the outer ring of larger boulders, the handler's rushed forward and began to drag the dragon away.

"Very good indeed! And now the marks from the judges!" Bagman boomed. One by one, the judges raised their wands and shot up their scores. Dumbledore shot up a seven, smiling happily. Madame Maxine also raised her wand almost unwillingly; a large silvery seven glittered in the air. Karkaroff scowled and shot up a four, receiving boos and jeers from the Hufflepuffs. Bagman seemed to pause in consideration, then he smiled and shot up a glittering six. Finally Crouch shot a number seven into the air and Cedric was whisked away to a bright white medic tent.

"See Hermione! Nothing to worry about!" Ron smiled at her, laughing at her pale white face and terrified expression. She nodded anxiously but gave him a small smile, applauding along with him.

Shortly after, the handlers dragged in the next dragon and Fleur Delacour entered the arena. Ron may have been biased, but he thought that her approach was much more impressive than Cedric's. Automatically she began waving her wand and almost dancing from side to side. Ron felt his eyes drooping and a stupid smile sliding over his face before he realized she was having the same effect on the dragon. Its massive eye's seemed to glaze over and its head was bobbing gently up and down.

Its eyelids finally clicked shut and it sank to the ground after three minutes, apparently asleep. Fleur continued to wave her wand, cautiously inching closer to the eggs. After a few seconds she seemed to accept that the dragon was fast asleep and safe to approach, so she ended the spell, making a graceful charge towards the egg.

She was about three feet away when the dragon snored and a jet of fire escaped from its nostrils and caught her skirt on fire. She screamed and began to pat frantically at her skirt before she seemed to remember she had her wand. She shot a stream of water out of her wand and scooped up the egg before dashing away again.

She scored better than Cedric, thirty four points overall, and she strutted away happily, surrounded by a group of blonde haired Beauxbaton students. Ron stared after her until Hermione smacked him out of his trance, pointing towards the new approaching champion.

Krum waddled into the arena and within seconds shot a stunning spell directly at the dragon's eye before proceeding to make an extremely uncoordinated run for his egg. He scooped it up and avoided getting hit by the dragon, but the dragon, in a blind rage, trampled her own eggs. The judges seemed to deliberate and decided to deduct points for the destroyed eggs. Except Karkaroff, he gave Krum ten points. This placed Krum in the lead with fourty points.

Finally, with Krum in the lead, followed by Fleur and Cedric in last, Harry entered the arena. Compared to the previous champions, he looked entirely too small and young. Harry stood about a hundred meters away from his dragon, great, black and completely vicious looking with a spiky tail. Ron imagined he saw Harry gulp before he raised his wand and shouted out a spell.

His spell seemed to have failed, whatever it was. Harry continued to stand there, expectantly, his eyes darting back and forth across the sky and occasionally settling on the dragon.

"What's he doing? Did his spell not work?" Ron asked Hermione, still watching Harry.

"No, it should be working. He is summoning his -" she began. She was cut off by the arrival of the very thing Harry had summoned; his Firebolt.


	6. Chapter 6

**Another update! I hope you guys like it! I just want to say thank-you to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate it! Secondly, it is now my spring break and I will be traveling, so my updates might be a little slower for the next three weeks or so, but I'll try to update it at least once or twice. Just be patient and it will come :) Thanks again!**

Ron roared loudly as he watched Harry glide through the air. Everyone in the stands was cheering just as loudly for Harry as they had for Cedric, with the possible exception of the Slytherin House. Ron could make out Malfoy a few rows a way watching Harry with a sour look on his face. Because Malfoy knew, just like everyone else at the school, that Harry was best suited for the sky.

Harry soared upwards, so high that he was a mere dot circling the dragon from above. Suddenly, Harry fell into a dive, free-falling straight towards the ground. The crowd gasped in unison as Harry dodged a jet of fire by no more than a foot. Ron smiled broadly and continued to whoop enthusiastically. Next to him, Hermione was watching through the cracks in-between her fingers.

"Hermione! Relax!" Ron yelled over the crowd, tugging her hands away from her face.

"Great Scott, he can fly! Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?" Bagman boomed as Harry swooped out from under the Horntail's wing.

"See? He's being compared to the best Quidditch player of the century! Relax and watch!" Ron yelled. Hermione continued to grasp at her face, leaving indents of nail marks on her cheeks.

The Horntail was growing increasingly infuriated by its new pest. Harry continued to circle it, plummet towards the eggs and then pull out of the dive in the nick of time as flames would erupt milliseconds later. The dragon strained its neck, trying to reach Harry without leaving the ground.

Harry dove once more, and successfully dodged the flames only to be greeted with a striking blow to the shoulder from the dragon's jaggedly spiked tail. The crowd groaned as they saw flecks of blood flying from Harry's shoulder.

"Uh… you might want to keep your eyes averted…" Ron suggested to Hermione. She automatically did the opposite and gasped as she saw the injured Harry struggling to escape the dragon's increased attacks.

Seeming to resort to a new, safer tactic, Harry flew back and forth in front of the dragon's vision, staying just close enough to remain irritating. He was succeeding, the dragon's lips were pulled back menacingly, her curved fangs bared. She stretched her long neck as far as she could and swayed, trying to mimic Harry. She finally let out a large roar and a jet of flame before she unfurled her leathery black wings and launched herself into the air.

The dragon hung suspended in mid-air for a moment, looking for her target that had abruptly disappeared. Everyone in the stands were waving their heads back and forth, searching the skies before they finally realized that the sky was empty. Harry was hurtling towards the ground, towards the eggs with extreme speed. He swooped over the eggs, and reaching down with his uninjured arm, seized the golden egg and quickly soared back into the egg, out of reach of the dragon.

Roaring, stomping, and whistling, the crowd filled the stadium with deafening noise. Ron tried to yell to Hermione, but his words were lost in the noise and he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. He smiled broadly, and urged forward by his extreme happiness in this moment, he reached out and grabbed her hand. For a second she looked at him in surprise, but then she smiled and squeezed his hand back.

Time was still. Ron just looked at Hermione, smiling, her hand in his. In that moment, he felt that the world was completely right, in balance.

"Look at that! Will you look at that!" Bagman roared, interrupting the moment. "Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!" Hermione pulled her hand out of Ron's.

"I'm going to see Harry. Will you come?" Hermione asked, raising her voice slightly to be heard over Bagman's continued speech.

"…I don't know…"Ron began, uncertainly. He rubbed his hand without thinking.

"Ron, come on. You miss him and he misses you! Even I've missed you! It's not the same without you around." Ron found himself smiling, mainly at the thought of Hermione missing him, and that their circle wasn't complete without him. And besides, Ron _did _miss Harry. He even had to admit that he doubted Harry had ever entered himself into the tournament. After he had stopped being bitter and wasn't clouded by jealousy he accepted that Harry wouldn't be able to cross Dumbledore's age line, and even if he had, Harry wouldn't have lied to Ron.

Ron was ready to be friends with Harry again; he couldn't believe he had lasted so long without him. So when Hermione took his hand and dragged him through the crowd towards the large white medic tent, Ron followed willingly.

Hermione rushed through the mouth of the tent, Ron only momentarily hesitating, trying to plan what he would say. He strode in behind her, feeling very shaky and nervous.

"Harry you were brilliant! You were amazing! You really were!" Hermione squeaked, still a little overly excited. Or she had noticed Harry's shoulder where the wound was currently covered in frothy bubbles. Harry ignored Hermione and stared past her, looking directly at Ron. Ron gulped.

"Harry," he began, his voice somewhat wavering, "whoever put your name in that goblet – I – I reckon they're trying to do you in!" he choked out. He instantly grimaced. Why had be opened with that? He should have opened with an apology, begged Harry to forgive him and explained how he had realized he was being petty and jealous.

"Caught on, have you? Took you long enough…" Harry responded coolly, his eyes still squinted, staring Ron down. Hermione gave a small cough and looked nervously back and forth between them.

"Harry, I -" Ron tried again.

"It's okay. Forget it," Harry suddenly interjected, giving a small smile.

"No, I shouldn't've -"Ron pushed forward, trying to get out an apology.

"_Forget it_," Harry repeated. Harry laughed, stepped forward and punched Ron lightly on the arm. Ron smiled back brightly.

The touching scene apparently was too much for Hermione who automatically burst into tears. Ron and Harry shot each other bewildered looks, both confused at her sudden outburst.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry cried out, completely puzzled. He awkwardly patted her on the back as he mouthed 'what the?' at Ron. Ron shrugged his shoulders and mouthed back 'women…'

"You two are so _stupid_!" Hermione shouted through her hiccupped sobs. She stamped her little foot, looking absolutely adorable. Ron smiled at her, reaching his arm out to her. Hermione rushed forward and hugged him, then launched herself at Harry. Before either of them knew what was going on, she was rushing out of the tent, completely sobbing as tears streamed down her face. As she rushed out, she bumped into Victor Krum, making him stumble backwards. He stood up and stared after her in shock, then shot a puzzled look in Ron's direction before walking away, rubbing his arm.

"Barking mad…" Ron said, staring after her. He shook his head, "Harry, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores!" he said excitedly, dragging Harry out of the tent. Harry quickly snatched up his golden egg and Firebolt and followed.

"You were the best, you know, no competition," Ron began talking a mile-a-minute, wanting to make up all their lost time. "Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground…turned it into a dog…he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well – the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance- well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire – she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum – you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs – they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them," Ron filled him in on everything he missed and then gasped for air.

The judges stood up, apparently ready to announce the scores. "It's marks out of ten from each one," Ron explained as Madame Maxime raised her wand and shot up a silvery figure eight into the air.

"Not bad! I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder…" Ron said over the applauding crowd. Harry smiled and nodded, not seeming too concerned about his scores.

Mr. Crouch followed, launching a number nine in the air.

"Looking good!" Ron yelled, patting Harry, rather enthusiastically, on the back.

Dumbledore stepped forward and Ron could see him smiling as he peered down at Harry. He could imagine the old man's twinkling eyes and flashing white teeth as he too shot up a number nine. He then stepped back and clapped along with the crowd.

Ludo Bagman stepped forward, looking jovial and excited. He stood there momentarily, fingering his chin as if he were deep in thought. He then mimed an 'ah hah!' moment, and raised his wand. A ten.

"Ten? But…I got hurt… What's he playing at?" Harry gasped. Ron laughed.

"Harry, don't complain!"

Finally, Karkaroff stepped forward with a nasty scowl on his face. He paused for a moment and a slimy sneer crept onto his face and he shot up a number four. Ron roared angrily.

"_WHAT? Four? _You lousy, biased scumbag! You gave Krum ten!" Ron continued to rant, stomping around kicking the grass.

"It's fine, it doesn't matter," Harry said with a smile, "Let's head back to the school and find Hermione." Ron nodded, still dazed at how blatantly biased Karkaroff was. Sure, Krum was brilliant, but not _that _brilliant. And it was clear to everyone that Harry had out performed Krum in every way.

"Oi!" Ron turned and saw Charlie running up to them. "You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" he said, patting Harry on the back. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened – but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah – and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes. Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

Harry turned to Ron, "Go on then," Ron said, "I'll wait right here." Ron would never admit it, but he didn't want to leave Harry after they had just made up. Harry smiled and rushed off towards the purple champions' tent, leaving Ron to stare at the masses of people swarming back towards the castle. He smiled happily, probably frightening the passer-byers. Ron didn't mind. He had been feeling so alone and miserable for so long, but that was finally past him.

Even when Malfoy walked back and taunted Ron, Ron just laughed him off and continued to smile, allowing nothing to spoil his mood, which happily seemed to make Malfoy's mood even worse. He cursed and stomped off, while Crab and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly and then trudged along behind him.

Harry darted up to rejoin him about five minutes later, smiling brightly. Together they made their way around the edge of the forest, enjoying each other's company.

"Alright, tell me everything about what the other champions did," Harry demanded excitedly. Ron smiled and launched into a play by play of each champions actions, describing Cedric's fireball to the side and Fleur's temper tantrum over her burnt skirt. As they rounded the final clump of trees a small witch with curly blond hair and violent green robes leapt out in front of them. She held a quill in one hand and a small notebook in the other. Ron recognized her as the writer from the article a few weeks ago.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she cried, beaming at him. Ron didn't know if he was prejudiced from the lies she had been spreading or how she had contributed to keeping him apart from Harry, but he thought she sounded rather weasely and deceitful.

"I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel _now, _about the fairness of the scoring?" she rattled off, stepping closer like a viper approaching it's prey. Ron narrowed his eyes and scowled at her.

"Yeah, you can have a word," Harry replied brightly. Ron shot him a surprised look, which Harry ignored. "_Good-bye," _Harry said forcefully. Ron laughed happily, and the two of them walked towards the castle, leaving the rather upset and rejected writer behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm finally back from break! Sorry about that long gap in between updates. I promise to be more regular again :) Read and Review!**

Ron Weasley walked up the stone steps to the Owlery with a goofy grin plastered on his face. There was something about having your two best friends walking along on either side of you that made the day seem better, the world seem more peaceful. And the world sure looked peaceful right now. The sun was setting of streaks of brilliant red light across the sky, mixing with the softer oranges and pinks.

As soon as they reached the Owlery, Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and furiously began scribbling out a letter to Sirius. Flecks of ink flied in every direction, staining Harry's hands, robes, and the rest of the letter. Ron knew Harry was currently filling his godfather in on every twist, turn, and spectacular flying technique to get that egg. Occasionally, Harry would look out of the Owlery at the beautiful sky and smile, as if to soak in the peace and happiness that he could now feel with the first task behind him.

Though the grounds of Hogwarts looked still and calm, the three of them knew that somewhere someone was currently trying to attack Harry. Again. Harry and Hermione had filled in Ron on their suspicions about Karkaroff entering Harry in the hopes that he would get killed in the tournament. Ron had to admit that it was highly plausible. That task had been the perfect opportunity to have Harry killed off and make it look like a complete accident. If Harry hadn't gotten tipped off about the dragons, he probably would have been killed, or at least severely injured. The more Ron was filled in, the more it made sense.

"We should have suspected it all along," Ron blurted out, interrupting the silence, "I mean it fits, doesn't it? Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup," he spat bitterly. Harry had a small smile on his face as he continued to scribble away, while Hermione was nodding along solemnly, probably thinking through the whole situation and coming up with a logical explanation along with a ten-point plan on how to deal with the situation.

"I'll tell you one thing, though, Harry, if it _was_ Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch!" Ron said with a wicked smile, feeling very proud of his friend. Harry laughed and stood up, folding his letter. Ron laughed as he saw that Harry had filled a full page, and had continued to write onto the back. After a few attempted snatches at Ron's wretched owl, who kept hooting and zooming around Harry's head, Ron stepped forward.

"Come here, I'll do it," he grunted, snatching Pig out of the air and clenching tight so he couldn't escape again. Ginny always got angry with him whenever Ron wasn't gentle with Pig, but Ron tended to ignore her. The bloody bird was just overly excited and didn't mind being manhandled. Sure enough, as Ron carried Pig to the window and chucked him out into the air, the little owl hooted happily and lurched away.

Stifling a laugh, Ron continued, "There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how can they be? You know what? I reckon you could win this tournament, Harry, I'm serious." Ron grinned excitedly at his friend, who responded with an eye roll. Ron knew Harry thought he was just saying these things to make up for being angry before, but Ron was serious. After what he had seen today, he had no doubt in his mind that Harry would be able to win this tournament. Sure he had had help on the first task, but he would have help for the other tasks too, because Ron had his back again.

X.X

The trio entered the Gryffindor common room and was greeted with earsplitting roars and the sizzling of fire-crackers. Peering around, Ron could see endless piles of cakes, pastries and tarts, and vats filled with butterbeer, pumpkin juice, and in the corner, hidden from Hermione, Ron thought he could make out a few small bottles of Fire Whiskey. The three of them struggled through the room, taking in the atmosphere and plopping themselves down on the couch with giant grins plastered on their faces. Ron was especially happy to see a banner depicting Cedric Diggory with his head on fire.

Ron, as was his natural response to seeing food in front of him, automatically grabbed a couple of every type of desert he could reach and began shoveling them one by one into his mouth. He was only interrupted when he noticed Harry whisper something quietly into Hermione's ear, to which she responded with a slight smile as her cheeks grew suspiciously rosy. Ron tried to ignore it and reassure himself that they were not dating. He shoved another chocolate cake into his mouth, but he found that they just didn't taste as good as before. Scowling, he tossed the remainder into the blazing fire.

As soon as the cakes landed in the fireplace, a deafening, scratchy, wailing noise pierced the air. Ron stared wildly at the fire for a moment, thinking he had somehow set off the noise, until he realized that it was coming from the gold egg sitting in Harry's lap.

Several people screamed at Harry to shut it, but their voices were barely heard over the loud wailing. After a second, Harry finally managed to clamp it shut. After the shrieking, the common room sounded strangely subdued and silent.

"What was that?" Seamus gasped, staring at the egg with a disgusted look on his face. "Sounded like a banshee… Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" Neville spat out. Ron glanced over at him and was startled to see that the poor porky boy looked strangely pale and distraught. He had spilled sausage rolls all over the floor and pumpkin juice was dribbling down his chin and dripping onto his robes. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal. They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions," said George. Neville appeared to be trying to calm himself, but he still didn't look entirely convinced.

Ron was trying to figure out why the sound had seemed vaguely familiar when George continued, "I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing…maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry." A few people around him laughed appreciatively, but Ron nodded, seriously. That was where he had distantly remembered it, not Percy singing, but Percy speaking in strange, harsh, wailing tones. He had heard Percy making those strange noises occasionally over the summer, but whenever he pressed him for details, Percy simply replied it was "official business".

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred sneaked up, a mischievous smile on his lips.

Hermione must have noticed his devious expression, since she hesitated, looking rather frightened. Fred responded with a broad grin. "It's all right, I haven't done anything to them. It's the _custard creams _you've got to watch-"he said with a wink.

A gagging sound came from Neville, who had apparently just bitten into a custard cream.

"Just my little joke, Neville…" Fred reassured him. Neville smiled and gave a small laugh, but he still put the rest of the custard cream down.

"Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?" Hermione was now asking, looking thoughtfully at the platters full of food.

"Yep," Fred replied, proudly. "_Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all! _They're dead helpful…get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish," he said fondly.

"How do you get in there?" Ron, who knew Hermione much better than Fred knew that she was plotting something, but unfortunately Fred did not seem to sense the trap.

"Easy! Concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles– and-" he stopped, finally noticing her especially intent expression. "Why?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly, averting her eyes.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you? Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?" George questioned, descending in on the uncomfortable, bushy haired girl.

Several people laughed, some unkindly. Hermione grew a little flushed, but didn't say a word.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries! You'll put them off their cooking!" Fred added, looking tremendously worried at the thought of the food in Hogwarts taking a nosedive.

Hermione was about to reply angrily, no doubt to tell the twins that maybe the house-elves should be put off their cooking if it meant sweet freedom, when Neville served as an unwilling, yet nonetheless helpful distraction by transforming into a large yellow canary.

"Oh-sorry, Neville!" Fred boomed, "I forgot, it _was_ the custard creams we hexed-"

"Canary Creams! Fred and I invented them-" George butted in.

"Seven sickles each, a bargain!" They concluded together, dipping into a low bow. The crowd in the common room clapped appreciatively as Neville molted and once again transformed, returning to his usual form. He grinned uncertainly, uneasy being the center of attention. Ron shot him a wink, which seemed to help the boy relax.

The rest of the party consisted of random people spontaneously transforming into large canaries while onlookers roared with laughter. Fred and George were almost tearing up with pride over their new creations success, and enjoyed sneaking the canary creams one after another to unsuspecting victims. Ron himself turned into a canary three times and Harry twice. Fred and George seemed to understand that they shouldn't push it with Hermione, so she remained safe.

Eventually the party started to die down after people began slipping off to go to bed. Each time someone tried to escape up the stairs, Fred and George would roar after them in mock outrage and attempt to drag them back down again. Only after Harry tried to sneak off did the twins admit defeat. They begrudgingly walked up the stairs to their own dorms, yelling behind them, "We reconvene at dawn, brave lads!" holding their wands above them like swords.

X.X

The rest of the week, Ron floated along on a high, a high that seemed to be shared by Harry and Hermione. The three of them were closer than ever, and they happily put the past few weeks behind them, pretending they had never happened. Even when Snape sarcastically commented, "Oh how touching, the dream team is together again," they refused to abandon their good moods.

Ironically enough, the professor that did manage to put a damper in Ron's good mood was his favourite professor; Hagrid. Ron had long known that Hagrid had a strange fascination and blind adoration for any terrifying or revolting creature, but that did not mean that he would ever forgive the man. Because of Hagrid he had almost gotten eaten by giant spiders, stared down beadily by Hippogriffs, and now he was stuck with the skrewts.

Blast-Ended Skewts. Ron could no longer decide which creature he despised more, Aragog, the ten foot and rather murderous spider, or these skrewts that he was now stuck trying to keep alive when all he wanted to do was set Fluffy on them.

Hagrid, naturally, _adored_ the skrewts, and was informing the class that they were only _a little _aggressive since he thought they were tired and ready for hibernation. Although he couldn't be quite certain. His brilliant idea was to create little wooden crate-beds, and then nail the skrewts inside and hope that they quietly napped through the winter. Hagrid was hammering the first skrewt into the large wooden boxes when the skrewt began ramming itself up against the walls.

"Great, now that it's in there, let's dig a hole and bury it, and hope to God that the blasted thing dies," Ron muttered darkly to Hermione. She didn't respond, but Ron could tell that she wasn't against the idea.

Unfortunately, Hagrid had had a massive error in judgement. The skrewts, it appeared, did _not _hibernate, and being forcefully shoved into boxes and nailed in did not constitute their idea of a pleasant winter. As soon as Hagrid had successfully nailed them all in and stood up, wiping his brow with a massive, slightly burnt, hand, a chain of fireballs erupted from the crates. Each skrewt blasted out of their containers with a vengeance, and seemed determined to kill the foul beasts that had placed them in there in the first place. Ron shrieked as a skrewt blasted its way towards him, its black pincers snapping menacingly.

"Make a run for it!" Draco screamed as he charged past Ron towards Hagrid's cabin. Ron wasn't surprised to see most of the class following behind him. Ron was tempted to follow. Only the look on Hagrid's face convinced him to remain behind and face the enemy. Only a few Gryffindors remained and tried to help Hagrid "save the poor creatures."

Hagrid tossed lengths of rope to each of them, and sent them to their deaths. Ron managed to leap onto a skrewt's back and tie the rope around it's middle before it could decide whether to sting it's mystery attacker or blast him with fire. Eventually, they were able to round up nine of the skrewts and tie them to a tree while the rest of the class watched them, their noses pressed up against the cabin windows.

Ron peered sadly down at his singed robes and burnt arm and leg before he noticed that one last skrewt remained, scooting madly across the grounds trying to avoid it's recapture.

"O' no ye don't!" Hagrid called, running up to it. He tried to pat it – maybe to try to calm it down – and the skrewt blasted both of Hagrid's legs with blue balls of fire. Harry charged past, launching himself at the skrewt, while Hermione _augumenti'd_ Hagrid's smoking pants.

Harry jumped off the skrewt as Ron ran up, and together they used their wants to try and stun the creature. Unfortunately, it's shelled body seemed to keep it thoroughly protected, the spells bounced off harmlessly. The only thing that was stunned, was an unfortunate Neville who had gotten caught it a rebounding stunner. He slumped to the ground, and Hermione rushed forward to drag him out of the reign of fire.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid shouted angrily as Ron and Harry continued to shoot fiery sparks. "Jus' try an' slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won' hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Ron yelled back, angrily. He staggered backwards, his back up against the cabin as the skrewt continued to approach. He looked up momentarily and saw Draco's sneering face looking down at him.

"Well, well, well … this _does _look like fun," came a voice from the fence. Ron ignored it as Hagrid launched himself on top of the skrewt. Ron hoped that Hagrid had managed to break the thing's back.

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked the woman at the fence as he looped the rope around the skrewt. Ron looked at her, puzzled for a moment before he recognized her. It was that journalist, Rita Skeeter.

"Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet _reporter," she affirmed. She wore a green leather business suit, and her curly blond hair was held back with what looked like green talons.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," Hagrid frowned. Ron didn't know if he was frowning at the reporter, or the skrewt he was tying up at the tree. Ron hoped it was the skrewt, maybe Hagrid would finally kill the blasted things, or at least not torture his classes with them.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" the Skeeter woman continued, ignoring Hagrid.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid answered, still looking confused as to why she was so interested.

"Really? I've never heard of them before… where do they come from?" Hagrid paused and seemed to be growing rather red. Ron almost groaned out loud. If Hagrid had actually breaded those demon creatures illegally, he could be in a lot of trouble.

"They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Harry?" Hermione luckily interjected. Ron beamed at her. Unfortunately, Harry was rather thick and just stared at her, blankly for a few moments.

"What? Oh yeah…ouch…interesting," Harry replied, rather unconvincingly after Hermione stomped on his foot.

"Ah, _you're _here, Harry!" Skeeter cried out, looking like she had just heard Christmas was coming early. "So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favourite lessons?"

"Yes," Harry replied stoutly. Hagrid's chest puffed out and he looked down at Harry with tears in his eyes.

"Lovely. Really lovely. Been teaching long?" Skeeter turned back to Hagrid after Harry refused to add any more.

"This is o'ny me second year," Hagrid said gruffly, wiping at his eyes. Harry's cheeks turned a little red and kicked some dirt around.

"Lovely… I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The _Prophet _does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these – er – Bang-Ended Scoots," Skeeter asked, looking disgustedly over at the monsters. Ron couldn't blame her.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid corrected, though looking eager. "Er – yeah, why not?"

Ron knew why not, as did Harry and Hermione. They all shared a miserable glance, unable to tell warn Hagrid without Skeeter hearing. They stood their awkwardly as Hagrid replied happily, "Er- sure! Friday's good!"

Luckily the bell rang up at the castle, signaling Ron's freedom. He charged away quickly, before the skrewts escaped.

"She'll twist everything he says," Harry muttered darkly, looking back anxiously at Hagrid.

"Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally of anything," Hermione said, looking equally as miserable. Ron felt his heart sink. That sounded like something Hagrid would think would be great fun. Bring an exotic and dangerous creature illegally into the country and try to train it to be a house pet.

"Hagrid's been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledore's never sacked him," Ron assured them both. "Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry… did I say worst? I meant best."

Harry and Hermione laughed while Ron looked over his shoulder murderously at the skrewts he could still see straining on their ropes. Unforgivingly, he massaged his burnt shoulder and continued towards the castle.


	8. Chapter 8

**Wow, it's been ridiculously long since I updated this, I'm sorry to any of you who liked reading this. Leave me reviews and let me know if you like it so far, or if you hate it, basically just so I know people actually read it :) Thanks!**

After lunch, Harry and Ron happily trotted off to Divinations while Hermione trudged off to Ancient Runes. Ron had no idea why she voluntarily was taking such a ridiculously hard class when she could take an easy, albeit slightly ridiculous class like Divinations. Ron couldn't figure her out, but she seemed to enjoy the class, and was constantly talking about the "magical runes in Northern Indonesia," and how brilliant Professor Vector had correctly interpreted some runes and protected a village from an approaching nundu.

Ron had to admit that Divinations could be an extremely irritating class, especially with the almost suffocating fumes, the blistering heat, and of course bug-eyed Professor Trelawney. For the past few weeks, he had been absolutely dreading the hours he had to suffer through in her attic-like classroom. But, with Harry back and sitting next to him, the class seemed bearable, and actually rather enjoyable again. Harry and Ron tended to "divine" overly dramatic and rather tragic visions of their inevitable deaths. Their demises ranged from being caused by Ron's accidental drowning in the bathtub, to Harry's deathly wrestle with a Pixie.

Initially, Professor Trelawney had been very pleased with their "unwavering acceptance of their inevitable parting from this world," but she progressively grew more and more irritated as their giggling showed that they weren't taking their terrifying fates very seriously.

"I would _think,_ that _some _of us might be a little less _frivolous _had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths…and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?" she whispered, clearly imagining that the class was completely engaged and dying in anticipation.

"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Ron suggested in a whisper. Harry seemed to sputter, but managed to pass it off as a sneeze. He tried to keep a straight face, his wide innocent eyes gazing back at Professor Trelawney. Ron could see the corner of his mouth twitching though.

"_Death, _my dears," she announced, nodding in satisfaction as Lavender and Parvati both gasped in horror. Ron snickered and rolled his eyes at them. Those two were absolute wack-jobs. He pitied anyone who ended up with them.

"Yes, it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower…ever lower over the castle…" she whispered, creeping closer to Harry. Ron laughed as he saw Lavender scooting her chair further away from their table.

"Just hope he doesn't perish while he's in your class, imagine all the paperwork!" Ron joked, reaching out and patting Harry on the head. Professor Trelawney just scowled and swooped over to talk to Lavender and Parvati.

As Parvati informed the Professor that she was detecting a devious presence emanating from her orb, Trelawney loudly called out, "Ah yes, I feel the presence as well. You clearly have the gift. At least _some of you_ are able to understand the power of Seeing," she looked over her shoulder at Ron. "Yes, to See is always mocked, and scorned, for so many are unable to delve into the mists and See all there is to See."

"I think we are all 'seeing all there is to see' right now," Ron muttered, pointing at Lavender, who had just bent over to pick up her copy of _Unfogging the Future _off the floor_. _

All in all, it was one of the more enjoyable Divination classes, and Harry and Ron walked down the long, winding, staircases in good humor, still mocking Professor Trelawney and her "gift of divination."

Ron was excited to find Hermione and brag about their class and find out if she had been assigned any homework by Professor Vector. Ron had developed a habit of sitting next to Hermione and playing a loud game of Exploding Snap every time she was assigned homework while he wasn't. She didn't seem to enjoy it, and she often ended up beating him over the head with whatever book she had lying around. And, since it _was _Hermione, the books were usually rather thick and painful.

However, Ron wasn't able to see Hermione at all when they had finally made it down to the Great Hall. She didn't show up at all during dinner, so they eventually set off to the Library. Hermione wasn't there either, but Victor Krum was.

"Harry! Look! Just over there!" Ron said, pulling Harry behind a bookshelf and pointing through the shelf to Krum, sitting at a table. Ron didn't know why he was sitting there. He had numerous books piled next to him, but he hardly seemed to be interested in the one he was holding. He would stare intently at the page, but his eyes stayed fixed, and unmoving, as though he were just blankly staring. Every few seconds he would lift his head and peer around the room, as though he were searching for someone. Every time, his search seemed unsuccessful, and he would duck his head down again, grumpily.

"I wonder if he would give me his autograph, I mean he doesn't look too busy," Ron whispered excitedly. His hero was just a few feet away from him; he could just walk over there and get an autograph. Maybe they would talk and become friends. So far this year he hadn't been able to talk to him once, but he wanted to. It was _Victor Krum_ after all!

"I don't know," Harry replied, simply. He didn't seem half as excited as Ron, even though Ron knew Harry had used many of Krum's signature flying moves when he had been going up against that Horntail.

"I think I'll just go over and ask, why not? I- drat, I don't have a quill. Harry, do you have a quill? I have some parchment. Should I have him sign a blank sheet, or something else? I have a text book? But why would he sign a textbook?-" As he paused, suddenly Ron heard voices drifting from a few shelves over. As he stepped back he saw six or seven girls hiding behind the rows and staring at Krum just like he had been.

"I think I'll have him sign my journal, that way he can see my address. Maybe he'd owl me over the holidays!" one girl whispered excitedly, digging out a quill and a bright pink journal.

"Ugh, Harry let's go to the common room, I bet that's where Hermione is," Ron decided.

"What about your autograph?" Harry asked with a snicker. Ron could feel his ears flushing red.

"Harry, I was obviously joking. I wouldn't want to bother the poor bloke. Those girls, staring after him and whispering all the time. It's probably rough on the guy," Ron replied, hoping Harry would let it go. Harry didn't seem to buy it, but like a good friend he played along.

"I bet you're right."

"They are only obsessed with him because he's a celebrity. It's pathetic really. I mean, give the poor guy a break." Ron continued on his kind-hearted appeal for everyone to give Krum the privacy he so obviously desired as they made their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

As they gave the password, and Ron found himself saying, "I mean, he talked to me a few times at breakfast, I'm sure it was because he appreciated how I treated him like a normal guy." This statement was not strictly false, Krum had bumped into Ron and apologized, but that was the extent of their breakfast talk. Luckily, Hermione rushed the pair of them from behind, effectively ending the conversation about Krum before Ron could blurt out that Krum had mentioned maybe visiting the Burrow sometime.

"Harry!" Hermione wheezed, "Harry, you've got to come- you've _got _to come, the most amazing thing's happened- please-"she gasped, seizing Harry's arm and trying to drag him down the corridor. Harry shot a puzzled look at Ron, who responded with an intrigued raise of the eyebrow.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked the overly excited Hermione.

"I'll show you when we get there – oh come on, quick-"

"Okay," Harry replied, jogging behind Hermione as Ron dashed to catch up.

"Oh don't mind me! Don't apologize for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open until you get back, shall I?" The Fat Lady called after them, angrily.

"Yeah, thanks!" Ron shouted over his shoulder. The Fat Lady huffed and slammed herself shut. Ron heard a quiet, "boys…incorrigible" before he turned the corner.

"Hermione, where are we going?" Harry yelled over the pounding of their feet.

"You'll see, you'll see in a minute!" she yelled back excitedly.

Hermione kept charging along, skidding and turning and dashing down a flight of stairs. Ron had no idea where they were heading, but Hermione clearly did. And apparently Harry was also catching on, because after a few minutes he slowed down, and looked suspiciously at Hermione.

"Oh hang on….Wait a minute, Hermione…"

"What?" she replied, innocently. Ron looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled.

"I know what this is about," Harry declared, nudging Ron and pointing to a painting hanging behind Hermione. It showed a rather large silver bowl, filled with various fruits. Suddenly, Ron remembered why this fruit bowl should have been familiar to him. Fred had told them all about it a few days ago.

"Hermione! You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!" Ron shouted, angry that she had tricked him into being _excited _about SPEW.

"No, no, I'm not! And it's not _spew_ Ron-" Hermione said with disgust.

"Changed the name, have you?" he replied, mainly to irritate her. He almost laughed at her outraged expression. That was the best part of arguing with Hermione, her expressions were so funny and cute. The downside was it was hard to keep a straight face.

"What are we now, then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it!" he said. He honestly thought Hermione was being entirely ridiculous about the whole spew nonsense. Sure, it was cute when she would get all worked up and start banging that collecting tin around the common room, shoving it underneath people's noses and giving them her sternest look. But the fact was she didn't know what she was talking about. Forcing wages and holidays on the house-elves wouldn't make them happier, they liked the work! But even more important, the house-elves cooking was sublime, and he refused to compromise that.

"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione barked back impatiently, though Ron continued to doubt her. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found- oh come _on, _Harry, I want to show you!"

Hermione yanked on his sleeve and absolutely dragged Harry up in front of the painting. She quickly stretched out her finger and tickled the green pear and climbed through the door that magically appeared as the pear began wiggling and laughing hysterically.

Ron stepped through the door behind them and was immediately awe-struck by the kitchens. It was an enormous room, larger even than the Great Hall. Four huge tables were lined throughout the room, mimicking the house tables above. Glistening pots filled with simmering soups and stews lined one wall of the room, while a brick fireplace on the other end was spitting out cauldron cakes. Ron stood stunned, feeling such excitement and absolute adoration for this room and the magic it created. Ron found himself regretting he had eaten so much at dinner; all he wanted was to stuff his face with all the fresh food in front of him.

Ron vaguely heard Harry yell out "Dobby!" and saw him stoop down to hug a small, goofy looking House-elf. Ron wandered away, more interesting in the food to be found in the kitchens than the reunion that was going on a few feet away.

"Can Mitsy help you, sir?" squeaked a small elf that popped out from behind a small stove. The elf, Ron assumed it was a girl, had large, floppy ears and even larger sparkling, blue eyes. She wore a brilliantly white little dress, and had a blue bow sitting on her head.

"Er- sure… What are those, right there?" Ron pointed to a tray that was currently being pulled out of an oven.

"Those, sir, are lava cakes! Would you be wanting one? How many would you like? What about those young masters over there?" the elf squeaked, not waiting for an answer as she selected about ten cakes and placed them on a platter.

"Oh, I'll take one. I'll just go over and ask them if they want one," Ron said, grabbing a cake from the platter and then almost skipping back over to Harry and Hermione. Nothing made a man happier than having a full stomach.

He was stuffing his face with the delicious chocolate dessert when he saw a new house-elf burst into tears. He looked nervously over at Hermione, knowing that she would no doubt take it as proof that house elves were enslaved and depressed, and would immediately launch into a well prepared and rehearsed speech about "inhumane treatment" and "a right to freedom and compensation." He was about to shoo the elf away, to save it from Hermione's insanity, but she got to the elf before he could.

"Oh dear. Winky, don't cry, please don't…" Hermione tried to speak in a soothing voice. She hesitantly reached out and tried to pat the elf on the back, though this only seemed to make the elf howl even louder.

"Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?" the elf Harry had early called Dobby asked brightly, ignoring the wailing of the elf behind him.

"Er- yeah, okay," Harry answered. Immediately six house-elves rushed over, carrying a large tray with a teapot, cups, a milk jug, and biscuits on their tiny shoulders.

"Good service!" Ron beamed at them. Hermione shot him a glare, obviously thinking he was being callous or enabling slavery or something. The elves didn't seem to be offended; rather they beamed back at him, and bowed very low. Ron couldn't help himself from smirking back at Hermione. She glared and continued to try, yet fail, to calm down the hysterical elf, Winky.

"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked between sips of tea.

"Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!" The elf chirped happily. "Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed-" the elf began to yell, trying to be heard over the increasingly loud wailing Winky. "Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work! But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"

"Good for you, Dobby!" Hermione encouraged. She looked around at Ron as if to say "_see?_" Ron ignored her. There were odd ones in every bunch; obviously Dobby was a little bonkers.

"Thank you, miss! But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. 'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter…Dobby likes being free!"

Hermione was practically tearing up, proudly looking down at the possibly mentally unstable elf. No doubt she was developing plans to enlist him in some type of rally or march for freedom. The other elves seemed to be growing rather anxious and embarrassed; they edged away from Dobby and frantically got to work, as if they were trying to prove they didn't share his radical opinions.

"And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!" Dobby sounded absolutely delighted at the fact, but Winky howled even louder and began to pound her tiny fists on the floor. "And then Dobby had the idea, Harry Potter, sir! 'Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' Dobby says. 'Where is there enough work for two house-elves?' says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! _Hogwarts! _So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!" At this point, Dobby grew rather emotional as he remembered the kindness of Dumbledore. His ears flapped and he rubbed his tearing eyes.

"And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a galleon a week and one day off a month!" Dobby choked out through his tears.

"That's not very much!" Hermione retorted, indignantly, no doubt aghast that he was not even receiving minimum wage. Dobby quickly shook his head, making his large ears flap wildly.

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten galleons a week, and weekends off, but Dobby beat him down, miss… Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better." Hermione frowned slightly, but Ron smiled happily. The elf was completely off his rocker, but he was rather endearing.

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying _you,_ Winky?" Hermione asked, thinking that thoughts of money and time off would naturally cheer the elf up and coax her out of her tearful state. Unfortunately for Hermione, and much to Ron's amusement and glee, it had quite the opposite effect.

"Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" she squeaked out angrily. "Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed!" she scowled at them all.

"Ashamed? But – Winky, come on!" Hermione cried, glancing sideways at Ron and looking increasingly frustrated. "It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you!" Hermione cried out, anxiously. Winky only grew more angry, flattening her ears and screaming.

"You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! And Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!"

"Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter. Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it," Dobby said from behind his hand, although he spoke just as loudly as before.

"Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" Harry asked, stupidly. Sometimes it surprised Ron how little Harry understood about the wizarding world.

"Oh no, sir, no…'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir," Dobby replied seriously. The house elves near them all nodded solemnly. "We upholds the family's honor, and we never speaks ill of them – though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to – to…He said we is free to call him a – a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!" Dobby squeaked out a nervous giggle, his eyes darting to the elves around him. They all seemed to shiver at the thought of insulting their master.

"But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter! Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him!" Dobby vowed, puffing out his chest and looking very proud.

"But you can say what you like about the Malfoys now?" Harry asked, grinning slyly. Ron chuckled, and leaned forward intently. If only they could get some dirt on Malfoy, something really good that would knock the family down a peg or two. Or maybe his father could nail them for something illegal.

"Dobby – Dobby could…Dobby could tell Harry Potter that his old masters were – were – _bad Dark wizards_!" Dobby replied hesitantly. Ron waited impatiently. They already knew that!

Dobby stood, quivering for a few moments, and them lurched toward the nearest table and slammed his tiny head hard against it, screaming "_Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"_ Ron and Harry both rushed forward, and tried to save the ridiculous creature. Harry grabbed him by the back of his tie and yanked him away from the table.

"Thank you, Harry Potter, thank you," the elf wheezed, rubbing his head and looking a little dazed. Ron stared at him flabbergasted and edged towards the table, trying to block it from Dobby's view in case he got any ideas.

"You just need a bit of practice," Harry said hopefully. Hermione huffed angrily.

Winky was just as upset as Hermione. "Practice!" she squealed furiously. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!" She wagged her little finger sternly.

"They isn't my masters anymore, Winky! Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!" he said defiantly, puffing out his tiny chest. Ron found his declaration rather ironic considering he had just pounded his head into a table for calling them 'dark wizards.'

"Oh you is a bad elf, Dobby!" Winky started weeping again, thinking about her own former master. Throwing her tiny body on the ground, her little fists pounding the floor she continued to cry out, 'What is he doing without Winky?' and 'he is needing my help!' She continued to let the tears stream down her face until Hermione informed the sobbing elf that they had in fact seen Mr. Crouch, and that no, he was not near deaths door, and yes, he seemed to be surviving just fine without his elf.

"You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?" she chirped, almost hopefully, though she was still sprawled across the floor. Ron had a sneaking suspicion that the elf was planning a break out of the kitchens and finding Crouch's room and start cleaning and shining his shoes or something.

"Yes, he and Mr. Bagman are judges in the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Hermione said, obviously relieved that Winky had momentarily ceased her temper tantrum.

"Mr. Bagman comes too?" Winky now squealed seemingly angry once again. Run was suspecting that the elf was bipolar. She had wicked mood-swings. "Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!" she said morosely. Ron shared a look with Hermione. Bagman a bad wizard?

"Bagman—bad?" Harry sputtered. Bagman just didn't seem the type. He was so jovial all the time, always calling people 'm' boy,' or 'ol' chap,' and wearing his old Quidditch jerseys even though they were much too small now and his belly protruded quite a bit more than it used to.

"Oh yes. My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying…Winky—Winky keeps her master's secrets…" she said stoutly, and then refused to say another word about the subject. Instead she resumed weeping for her 'poor master,' and the three ultimately decided it was best to just leave her to her weeping and finish their tea.

Dobby stepped up as host and talked about his love of his new job and his daunting one galleon and how he might spend it. He seemed to have acquired quite a love of clothes since that one crusty sock that had freed him, and decided he wanted a sweater. Ron, sensing an opportunity to get rid of the dreaded Christmas jumper he would inevitably receive from his mother, offered it to Dobby, who immediately started tearing up and called Ron 'a great, kind wizard,' and rushed to hug him around his knees. Ron's ears grew quite red but he smiled at the little elf and patted his head fondly.

Finally they finished their tea, and Ron and Harry graciously accepted the swarms of elves' offerings, and stuffed their pockets full of treats. The elves waved the platters enticingly at Hermione's knees, but she just looked down at them sadly and looked rather irked when Ron accepted a to-go bag to carry extra treats.

"Thanks a lot! See you, Dobby!" Harry said happily, as all the elves clustered around the three to say goodbye.

"Harry Potter…"Dobby hesistated, "can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sir?" he asked hopefully, peering up at Harry with those big, watery eyes. Harry replied affirmatively, and Dobby beamed brightly.

As the three of them once again climbed the steps back up to the entrance hall, Ron spoke up, "You know what? All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens—well, it's not exactly difficult is it? They can't wait to give it away!" He laughed merrily, sifting through his bag of treats.

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know," Hermione said sagely, ignoring Ron's comment and instead returning to the house elves' plight. "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. They other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that too!" Ron rolled his eyes at her, but he secretly had to admit he found it was rather cute how determined and stubborn was about the subject. He smiled fondly at her.

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky," Harry scoffed, grinning at Ron.

"Oh she'll cheer up. Once the shock's worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man," she said with all the unrealistic certainty she could muster. Ron laughed and stuffed another cream cake in his mouth.

"She seems to love him," he mumbled through the cake.

"Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?" Harry said. "Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?"

"Probably says he's not a very good Head of Department, and let's face it…he's got a point, hasn't he?" Hermione replied gravely. Naturally the fun-loving man, though admittedly scatter-brained man was not her ideal candidate for Head of Department.

"I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch, at least Bagman's got a sense of humor," Ron replied, debating whether or not to eat a chocolate éclair.

"Don't let Percy hear you saying that," Hermione said with a sly little grin. Ron choked out a laugh as he accidentally swallowed the éclair.

"Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humor, would he?" he laughed, though being entirely realistic. "Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy."

Hermione laughed brightly and linked her arm through Ron's for a moment, before she grew a bit red and stepped away once again. Ron felt rather dazed for a few moments, and though it could possibly be attributed to an enormous sugar intake, Ron knew the fuzzy, warm feeling currently taking over him was entirely thanks to the stubborn, bushy haired girl whose laugh was still echoing through his ears.


End file.
